Whiskey and Gumdrops: A Blueberry Springs Chick Lit Contemporary Romance

by Jean Oram

  Other than Frankie, of course. Frankie was different.

  That tight-lipped man who had stayed up on the tower with her until darkness had fallen, hadn't spoken about Blowtorch other than mentioning he'd sent her home. The rumor she'd heard since was that he'd brought her to Blueberry Springs because she'd claimed nobody would hire a female parts person. Frankie convinced Alex to give her a shot and it turned out that, despite her training, she kind of sucked. And so he'd had to send her off.

  But it still didn't answer the questions that really mattered such as: Did Frankie and Blowtorch have a romantic falling out? Was that the real reason she'd left town? Were they doing a long-distance relationship? Was everything fine between them, romantically? Was that why he was ignoring her overtures? Or had they only ever been friends?

  He hadn't even uttered a thing about what Mandy had said on air at his television show or during her news interview. And nothing about her painting the tower—even when he was up there erasing their letters. Was he erasing her love? Ignoring all the rumors that must be filtering back to him? Making it so they were friends who had never tried to be something more? As she'd done for years? Or was he simply the kind of guy who he liked to chase and not be chased?

  She snapped her focus back to the man across the table from her. She needed to worry about one man at a time. John nodded to her. It was time for Seth to deal with the consequences of his actions.

  Without even a 'How are you?' John launched straight to business in a way that made Mandy's pocketbook rejoice. "My client has the funds to pay back her franchise loan and is offering to purchase the Blueberry Springs restaurant—if we can even call it that—for this amount."

  He slid a piece of paper across the table just like they did in the movies.

  Seth's lawyer peeked at the number and immediately began to protest, saying the restaurant was brand new and worth considerably more.

  "Your client was in breach of contract before declaring bankruptcy and has failed to fulfill his part of the deal. She doesn't have a brand new restaurant. She has half a renovated space and precious little Wrap it Up equipment. She is about to lose her assets because of your client's neglect. If you'd rather we sue him than cut a deal, that's fine. We can do that, as well as attempt to buy out your client. You might have noticed he's had a lot of bad press lately and the only way for him to save face is to do as Mandy and her partners are asking of him—to be a man of honor." John closed his file folder and pushed away from the table. Panic heated Mandy's cheeks. No. No! He couldn't just walk away! Didn't he know how negotiations went? Give, take, compromise? Wasn't that what he'd told her?

  John shot her a look and she forced her chair back as if she was about to leave as well. He'd told her going in that she had to follow his lead. No matter what.

  Unified and about to flush her dreams down the toilet, apparently.

  Mandy closed her eyes. She trusted him, right?

  He'd been good to her so far. Right?

  But this? This was hard.

  She just about bit her knuckle in anguish, but Seth's lawyer let out a resigned sigh.

  John, his chair still pushed out, half turned to the lawyer and said, "You know this is a fair offer that will help your client pay his debts." John shot Seth a look. "Assuming he is a man of honor and cares about paying his debtors, despite bankruptcy." His look turned hard and Mandy watched in awe as Seth paled. John—gentle John—was a man not to be trifled with. She would so hook her mom up with this guy if he wasn't already married.

  "Filing a flight risk claim was a bit much, don't you think, John?" asked Seth's lawyer, his voice edged with anger.

  Mandy was glad her chair was still pushed back because the way the men were staring each other down was making her fear they'd suddenly launch themselves across the table, all elbows, fists, and flying feet.

  John merely raised a brow and stated dryly, "A yacht loaded and ready with a hired crew? I think not." He stood, buttoning his suit jacket. "Mandy?"

  She stood quickly, just about sending her chair ass over tea kettle.

  John turned at the door. "You have our offer. We'll be in the foyer having coffee if you want to discuss our terms."

  He closed the door, and with a hand on Mandy's lower back, quickly ushered her away from the room. By the time they reached the end of the narrow hall, Mandy heard the door to the conference room open and her steps faltered, but John, with an insistent hand, pushed her around the corner, whispering, "Make them chase us."

  Seth's lawyer called out in a pained voice, "John, wait. My client... He..."

  Without turning around, Mandy knew they had Seth exactly where John promised he'd get him.

  * * *

  Mandy 'Good morning'd her way down Main Street, ducking into John's office just before she'd have to stop to chat with Mary Alice. Her back to the closed door, she breathed a sigh of relief at not having to explain one more time that she still didn't know if everything was going to fall into place exactly as she needed them to in order for her doors as an independent—and with less than twelve hours until her buyout deadline. Yeah, no stress. She picked at a blob of aquamarine paint stuck to her wrist as she hung up her jacket, still completely overwhelmed by the way family and friends had climbed up the scaffolding for the past several days to lend a hand, leaving the town with a freshly painted tower and Mandy free to get back to business. Well, at least to see if she had one.

  "Did you hear back?" Mandy asked, walking into John's office. Apprehension swirled inside her. Seth had accepted her buyout offer, but there were still a ton of contingency details to iron out before they signed and made it official.

  "Sure did." John grinned at her and swiveled in his chair to grab a file folder off the ledge behind him. "I think you'll be pleased."

  Grinning, he laid the papers in front of them. Her focus went straight to the bottom line and she hunched in her chair. She tucked her hands between her knees and stared at the numbers swimming in front of her. Everyone in town had been amazing and helped her raise the amount she needed to save Frankie's building and even buy out the restaurant within the short time frame, but still...

  "You don't look pleased. What's wrong?"

  "It's just..."

  John tugged the paper out of reach. "What?"

  She pushed her chair away and shook her head. This was too much. There was nothing independent about what she was doing. It was one thing to accept help from others and something else to have everyone pay your way—even if you promised to pay them back—after you blew it all. And she still didn't know if she'd be able to open her doors. She still lacked equipment and the resources to buy what she needed—even with money still coming in from the Ms.

  "Did the others sign?" she asked after a pause.

  He nodded. "Everyone is good to go. You're the last one. Maybe you need a moment. This is a big decision." He left the room so she could choose her fate in peace.

  If she signed, she was going to be more independent than she was probably ready to be. No higher-up would be dealing with her accounting, marketing, training, or supplies. The girls had decided they'd pretty much run their businesses independently, just have meetings once a month. If she signed, she'd basically be an independent business owner. And she didn't know squat about business.

  But if she didn't sign, she'd lose everything she'd put on the line. She'd be someone who didn't take what was offered in order to pursue her dream.

  She'd never be forgiven. By herself, by the town, or by Frankie. She'd already had a taste of that and it wasn't something she wanted to live with again. Without this deal, she'd have nothing. No money, no job, no friends.

  She pulled the contract closer and considered it. They were her terms, with a few adjustments. But it was going to be a lot of work and a lot of stress. Although she'd have what she started out wanting: her own business. And she couldn't do it any other way.

  She needed to stop thinking and worrying, needed to just shut her eyes and step off the
bridge.

  "John?" she called, excitement renewing itself.

  "Yes?" He popped his head around the corner.

  "Let's do it."

  Chapter 21

  Mandy stood outside Frankie's building and frowned at the bored looking delivery man.

  "Sorry? Can you repeat that?" she asked, cocking her head.

  "Sign here," he insisted, pushing an electronic gadget toward her, sending a waft of body odor in her direction.

  She placed her hands on her hips and studied him as though staring at him would help make sense of things. Because this made absolutely no sense. Why was everything she needed to open a Wrap it Up here now? Things she hadn't paid for. Two days after she'd broken free of the chain and weeks after all its assets had been seized? Everything she'd ordered through Seth ages ago and hadn't arrived was here. Now. Menu boards to tables to kitchen equipment.

  "No charge for delivery," he said, thrusting the gadget at her again.

  "But who sent it?" She looked at the labels on the boxes he'd lined up outside her restaurant once again. Her name. Her address. Nothing else. It was like a restaurant fairy had made a drop-off. But this big, burly man with a serious B.O. problem was definitely not a fairy.

  The man sighed and punched buttons on his tablet. "As I said..." He turned the tablet to face her. "Wrap it Up. Did you need to inspect before you sign? I have other deliveries to make." His impatience only exasperated her more.

  Shaking her head, she signed for the delivery because at the end of the day, she needed these things to open a Wrap it Up. She'd take it and deal with paying for it later.

  Stepping back, she allowed the man to wheel the boxes into her building while she pulled her ringing cell phone from her pocket. If these things didn't get seized, she'd be up and running by Blueberry Cruise's show and shine which would result in tremendous foot traffic right outside her door—an awesome time to have a grand opening.

  She gave thanks to the heavens and grinned at her phone. "Hello?"

  "Did you get my gift?" asked a voice.

  "Sorry? I think you have the wrong number."

  "The equipment?"

  "Seth?"

  "It should all be there. Everything you need to open."

  "But I didn't pay—"

  "It's covered."

  "But it was taken off the new contract. If I have it now..." She gripped her temples with a thumb and pointer finger.

  "It's all taken care of," Seth said firmly as she ripped open the closest box. "A little grand opening gift from me. Good luck, Mandy."

  "Wait!" She gawked at the branded materials. "I thought everything was seized?"

  "I've always liked you, Mandy. And you'll soon learn there are a million ways to do business and sometimes things aren't as they appear. Be good to yourself. Stay the way you are and you'll do fine."

  Mandy slowly turned off her phone. Things were not as they appeared, all right. Seth, the so-called bad guy, had just come through for her. Big time.

  Maybe he was really the good guy she'd thought he was, after all. Either way, she owed him for this last minute bailout. She tapped her chin with her phone. Strangely enough, the idea of having no way of paying him back didn't bother her as much as she'd thought it would.

  Humming to herself, she opened a few more boxes, determined not to look a gift horse in the mouth. Right now, she had the leg up she needed and a whole lot of work to do. Taking in the stacks of boxes, she realized she was going to need bodies. Lots of them. Lots and lots of them. She was going to have to ask for help. Again.

  Smiling, she locked up and walked the few blocks to her parents' house, hoping to find her brother bored and unemployed. Instead, she found her oldest brother, Devon, hanging on the front step, sweaty and looking pissed off as he retied his laces.

  "What are you up to?" she asked.

  "Running."

  "Is Ethan here?"

  "Why do you want to talk to that moody jerk?" He pulled his laces so tight, Mandy winced. "In case you didn't notice, he's in a wheelchair and doesn't want to buy your truck. Nobody does." He stood and narrowed his eyes. "And do you have any idea how bad that truck is on the environment? You burn at least twice the fossil fuels as I do—"

  "And your tiny little Honda—which, I might add, can't get through the mountain passes in the winter unless you follow me—is so much better?"

  "Shut up. That was a really bad snowfall."

  Mandy grinned. She was never going to let him live that one down. Ever.

  "So?" she asked. "Is he here? I want to give him my catering stuff so I can get my restaurant in order. I have everything I need to open by cruise night."

  Her brother looked up. "You're going to do it? I thought the idea was a goner." He gave a little shrug. "And my money."

  "Your money?"

  "That loan thing."

  "Oh." Wow. Okay. This was awkward. "Uh, thanks."

  "Yeah, well, he's out back." He jabbed a thumb toward the backyard and took off at a slow jog. "Let me know if you need any help."

  "Thanks. I will. Need help, that is."

  She unlatched the gate and entered the backyard. Ethan was lounging on the back patio, sipping a Coke as though he had the world in the palm of his hand, although a closer look told her to tread lightly.

  "Hey," she said, taking the chair beside his wheelchair.

  "Hey," he grudgingly replied.

  "Still mad at me?" she asked in surprise. It had been ages since they'd had their tiff.

  "You freaking fired me."

  She raised an eyebrow. "As I recall, you quit."

  "Whatever."

  "I need your help."

  "I said, whatever." He rolled his chair away from her, trying to end the conversation.

  She hated herself for doing it, but she pivoted the chair back to face her. "I came by to see if you wanted a job. If you wanted to explore your culinary prowess on your own terms this time. I'm going to need someone to take over the catering aspect."

  Her brother watched her, wary.

  "Your terms. Your menu." She swallowed hard and released his chair.

  He eased his chair back. "We didn't exactly work well together last time we tried this, Mandy."

  "I know. But there would be more freedom to put our own Blueberry Springs twist on things this time. I'm hoping you'd be willing to take over Jen's stuff. You can use my kitchen and my bulk buying power." She waited a few seconds to let him consider the offer. "We both had a lot going on and I hope we can try working together again." Swallowing her pride, she added, "I can't do it all on my own."

  "Is that an apology?"

  "Yes."

  "I'm not a charity case, you know." He set his jaw, his head held high.

  Mandy couldn't help but laugh. "Well, I am!"

  "Technically, you have to pay everyone back, space cadet."

  Mandy laughed until tears sprang to her eyes. "You know how long I'm going to be in debt?" She groaned and wiped her eyes. "This had better work out."

  "I can start tomorrow." He pointed at her with a finger. "But my terms. And I know exactly how much you need me in there."

  She pointed back. "If you don't wash your hands and wear a hairnet, you are so out of there. And you can't leave me hanging. Two weeks notice if you bail."

  He mimicked her, then stared at her for a moment. "The catering business is mine. Full ownership."

  She inhaled slowly, then, smiling, nodded.

  Ethan slowly reached out to shake her hand. "We have ourselves a deal, little sis. Just don't ever treat me like an invalid and I won't have to release cockroaches in your dining area."

  "You wouldn't dare!"

  For the first time in years, she saw that playful glimmer return to his eyes. "How long have you known me?"

  * * *

  "Okay, just over a bit. No! Just a bit! There. Perfect. Now stop touching it!" Mandy tried to hold her patience. Her brothers were messing with her and she knew it. But it had been a very long and very, ver
y early morning of getting everything in place for the grand opening and she'd about had it with their shenanigans. It so wasn't funny anymore.

  Just thinking about her grand opening had her bending over and breathing deeply so the room would stop spinning. An hour. In an hour, her place would be filled—she hoped.

  "You know what?" Ethan said from his wheelchair, leaning forward, hand propped in his chin. He angled his head slightly to the right. "I think it's still crooked." Her other two brothers shot him a wicked grin.

  "Shut up. It's fine." Nudging her eldest brother, Devon, out of the way, she climbed the ladder and smacked down the level on top of the specials chalkboard Liz had slipped her from the hardware shop's storeroom.

  "No, really," Ethan insisted. "I think it's a bit off."

  "You're a bit off," she said, pointing the level at him. "I'm about to go snap show on your ass if you don't stop it."

  She climbed down the ladder and stood beside Ethan, glancing up at the board nailed to the wall above the coffee counter. "See? It's... goddammit!" She threw the level on the ground and gripped her hair in frustration.

  "Look," pointed out her middle brother, Cody, finally taking pity on her, "the ceiling is sloped. It only makes it look off level."

  "I have bigger things to worry about than whether my specials board looks crooked," she grumbled, heading for the kitchen.

  She checked her list and breathed through the edge of her mood. How was she going to enjoy her grand opening if she felt nothing but panic? And where the hell was Frankie? If they were back to being friends, shouldn't he be here cracking jokes and putting her at ease? Sure, Blueberry Cruise was a good excuse for him not to be here, but still.

  Screw it. If she couldn't have a dose of Frankie to calm her, she'd go for the next best thing. She grabbed the bottle of whiskey she'd bought for the whiskey brownies and sloshed a bit into a paper cup. If there was one thing that would take the Ginsu edge off her mood, it was a shot of spiced whiskey.

  Ethan rolled in and, pointedly donning plastic gloves, began arranging sample trays. Mandy knocked a couple of ice cubes into the cup from the drink dispenser, along with a splash or two of Coke. Looking through to the front windows, she saw a stylish, restored Bentley parked out front, right beside a 1970s Camaro. And lots of people milling outside on the sidewalk as the show and shine got into full swing. Lots of people who would get hungry and thirsty over the course of the warm fall day. Oh hell, there was that spinning sensation again. Clutching the counter for support, she knocked back her drink.